


with you (every day is like this)

by violia



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 07:08:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11481243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violia/pseuds/violia
Summary: Geno does the world a favour and hides Sidney's hair gel.





	with you (every day is like this)

**Author's Note:**

> I was getting mad at my two other Sid/Geno WIPs, so I sat down and decided to write some comfy, teeth-rotting fluff. 
> 
> Special thanks to L, who read this over for me at 1am and gave me the confidence I needed to post the first thing I've written in a long while.

It’s the night of the NHL Awards, and Sidney is running late because he’s muttering to himself in his hotel room.

He’s a rumpled attempt at formality: he is dressed to the nines in his best tailored suit, but his top button is undone, his tie is strewn across the bed, and his shoes are nowhere to be seen. Yet none of these are his major concern – they aren’t the reason he’s darting around the room, opening cupboards and digging through suitcases and pointedly trying to not stare at his hotel bed.

Because Geno’s there, too. He’s lying on Sidney’s bed in his suit, totally engrossed in playing a game on his phone. Every few minutes he lets out a small noise, either in triumph or defeat, and Sidney can’t help but glance at him, drag his eyes along Geno’s lanky frame like he needs to double-check that he’s still there. Like he needs to remind himself that yes, Geno really did spend another night with him last night, and no, he still hasn’t ever disappeared before Sidney’s woken up. 

 _Maybe Geno’s here to stay_ , Sidney thinks, and then immediately brushes his fingers against the wooden cupboard door, because he can’t risk even thinking something like that, let alone saying it out loud.

(It doesn’t stop the butterflies taking flight in his stomach, though.)

Sidney returns to the ensuite to paw through his belongings again. His last attempt at searching his toiletries bag had proven too frustrating to handle, and he’d simply dumped the contents all over the bathroom tiles. It was probably not the best decision, Sidney admits as he nearly trips on a tube of toothpaste, but it makes the search infinitely easier, even if this final check conclusively proves that no, his tub of hair gel is definitely not in his bathroom.

He’s starting to feel antsy as he heads back into the main room, aware of the time ticking down to the start of the night. It’s not as though he has anything to do beforehand, but Sidney doesn’t like to be late to anything, not if he can help it.

It hurts, a bit, knowing that they couldn’t do it this year, that there’s no Cup for him to pick up early before the show and parade in front of the media. It hurts to be shunted out of the playoffs, to be plagued by endless worries and doubts about his performance, to pore over tape of every play and wondering if he couldn’t have just pushed a bit harder, skated a bit faster, done _something_ to get the team that bit further ahead.

But at the end of the day Sidney knows that it’s not a one-man team, and he’s come to terms with the loss. He knows that the Penguins will come back next season better than ever, and he knows better than to feel melancholy on the awards night, and he knows that he better hurry up before the media can report that he was late to the NHL Awards because he _couldn’t find his fucking hair gel_.

“G,” Sidney starts, and then continues, “Geno,” because Geno seems totally consumed in his phone. “Hmm?” is the only acknowledgement Sidney gets, and he rolls his eyes.  

“Have you seen my gel?” he asks. He’s back to his search, digging back through his suitcase again, throwing more clothes up onto the bed that he swears he’ll fold up and put away later.

“Gel?” Geno repeats, his eyes still glued to his screen.

“Yeah, the stuff I put in my hair.” It’s not in his suitcase, or his bathroom, or the clothes cupboard. Those are the only places it could possibly be – Sidney has no idea where it could have gone. He sighs and straightens up, and turns to face Geno on the bed.

“No, have not seen,” Geno says absent-mindedly, and Sidney would believe it, would turn around and start rummaging through drawers again, except –

Except while Geno may still be staring down at his phone screen, his fingers aren’t moving, and there’s a small smile playing at the edges of his lips.

Sidney narrows his eyes.

“Geno,” Sidney says, putting just a hint of his captain’s voice into the admonishment. “Where have you put it?”

“Put what?” Geno asks innocently, and Sidney could try so hard to get mad, but one look in Geno’s eyes, so flirty and cheeky as they finally stare up at Sidney’s, has him melting quicker than a sweet ice cream on a hot summer’s day.

“Stop it,” Sidney pads over to the bed, his demand tempered by the exasperated smile spread across his face. “I know you’ve put it somewhere. Where is it?”

“Not telling,” Geno smiles sweetly. Sidney sits on the side of the bed, bracing himself with one arm on the other side of Geno’s hips. He’s much closer to Geno now, and can clearly see his expression: the cheeky tilt of his lips, the soft fondness in his eyes, and can’t imagine ever not wanting to be like this, with Geno.

 _Every day is like this with you_ , Sidney thinks wondrously, and then lets himself hope, just for a moment, that _every day could always be like this with you_. Because for all that this is new – for all the ways they could crash and burn – some part of Sidney is pretty sure that they won’t. He doesn’t let himself think about that a lot, or often, but he feels something there, stirring between them and tangling them together, a deeper and more solid familiarity than he’s ever known.

He likes it a lot.

“C’mon, G,” Sidney pleads. He can’t help but giggle when Geno pretends to lock his lips with his fingers and throw away the key – he looks so smug and proud of himself, and Sidney doesn’t think that should be as attractive as it is.

“Did you hide it under a bedside table? The bed?” he guesses. It’s then that he leans back slightly and notices, for the first time, how Geno’s laying just a bit awkwardly against the pillows. “Is it under you?  

“Come and find out,” Geno smirks, and his voice is suddenly so deep and smooth, and Sidney’s stomach flips in anticipation. He doesn’t think he can be blamed for leaning in and pressing their lips together – he’s always been powerless against Geno’s lidded, come-hither eyes.

When their lips meet Sidney finds himself immediately sinking into Geno’s chest, lulled into Geno’s warmth. He’s bracketed by one of Geno’s hands on his waist, the other on his upper back, pulling him in and keeping him there. Sidney braces his hands on Geno’s shoulders as Geno kisses him and kisses him, drawing Sidney’s bottom lip between his teeth, slow and luxurious in a way that should be calming but definitely isn’t. Geno kisses with just the right kind of sloppy to make Sidney’s knees feel weak and his eyes flutter shut, and something flares deep in Sidney’s gut at the slickness of their mouths.

Sidney’s breath stutters when Geno dips the fingers of one hand underneath the waistband of Sidney’s trousers, and his mouth gasps open of its own accord when the fingers of the other scratch at the nape of Sidney’s neck. He’s pulling all of Sidney’s favourite moves, Sidney realises, the ones that make him trembling and needy and so turned on that he can’t think straight. Sidney feels a warm sense of amusement and affection swell within him, before he forms a firm resolve. 

After all, Sidney knows how to play dirty too.

With a tilt of his head he coaxes Geno’s tongue into his mouth and sucks on it just the way Geno likes, the way that makes him groan and grip the nape of Sidney’s neck tightly. As Sidney predicted, it makes Geno sit up straighter so that he can push his tongue further into Sidney’s mouth, and Sidney can’t suppress a small moan at that, the feeling of Geno’s big tongue sliding between his lips, but he doesn’t let himself get distracted. He draws his fingers down Geno’s spine, further and further through the newfound space between Geno’s back and the pillows, and then –

“Aha!” Sidney pulls away and holds up the tub of gel triumphantly. He grins, right in Geno’s face, panting slightly from their kisses. “You thought you could hide it from me.”

Within a split second the tub is yanked from his hands as Geno hurls it across the room. Sidney tries to protest, but maybe his plan is backfiring on him, because his voice is drowned out when Geno curls his arm tight around his waist and flips them over, pressing Sidney into the mattress.

“No,” he growls, pinning Sidney’s hands above his head. “Hair look nice _without_ gel, Sid. Won’t let you ruin.”

“I don’t ruin it!” Sidney squawks indignantly.

Geno just stares at him, unimpressed, letting Sidney know exactly what he thinks of that opinion. “No.”

“C’mon, G,” Sidney wriggles his body, trying to buck Geno off of him, but Geno doesn’t move an inch.

“Will get off Sid only if Sid says he won’t use gel,” he says firmly.

“Oh really?” Sidney lifts one eyebrow, challenging. “What are you gonna do if I say no?”

Geno leans down so that his cheek is pressed against Sidney’s, and grips Sidney’s wrists just a little bit tighter.

“If Sid say no, I’m have no choice but keep him here,” Geno murmurs. His lips brush the curve of Sidney’s ear when they move, and it sparks a shiver up Sidney’s spine. “And if I keep him here, I’m fuck him into mattress." 

He punctuates that last remark with a quick grind of his hips and Sidney gulps, feels his groin start to swell, and his eyes squeeze shut and Geno tongues the sensitive spot behind his ear –

And then Sidney remembers where’s he’s supposed to be, and how late he is, and how he’s supposed to not show up looking like he just had sex. He groans and gasps and blurts out, “Okay, no gel, we have to go.”

It’s Geno’s turn to grin triumphantly, pulling back slightly to meet Sidney’s eyes and pronounce proudly, “I win.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sidney rolls his eyes and tries not to be too turned on by Geno’s smugness. “Get off me.”

“Sid no fun,” Geno complains, but he does move off of Sid, and they both quickly put themselves together. Sidney tugs on his shoes and ties his tie and runs a hand despairingly through his hair. He _likes_ the gel, okay, even if he’s beginning to second-guess the amount he usually puts in. Whatever, he’ll experiment later on. Probably. If Geno ever gives his gel back.

One glance over at Geno, dumping the gel unceremoniously in the bin, tells Sidney that he shouldn’t expect that anytime soon.

Eventually Sidney grabs his phone and wallet and they’re ready to go. His fingers are grasped around the handle of the door when Geno crowds in behind him, grips his hips, and pulls Sidney flush against his chest.

“No gel, is good, Sid,” Geno notes smugly as he buries his nose in Sidney’s soft, ungelled hair.

“Whatever,” Sidney scoffs, ignoring that fact that his body instantly rests back against Geno’s. “Only because you gave me no other choice.”

“Yes,” Geno hums, nosing his way down to murmur lowly in Sidney’s ear. “You good boy, Sid, always do what I say.”

Sidney gasps and tenses and squeezes his thighs together as his eyes flutter, overcome by a wave of arousal spiking in his gut, because this is definitely something they still haven’t discussed but Geno is starting to notice how much Sidney likes it. There’s a small vibration through Geno’s chest that Sidney recognises as a chuckle, but his fingers are gripping Sidney’s hips tightly, and Sidney knows that they aren’t finished here.

“We go to awards,” Geno instructs, and the note of finality laced through his voice sparks another delicious shudder through Sidney. “You win all, then we come back and I give you special award for be so good.”

Sidney can’t get out of the room fast enough.

 


End file.
